Potion Partners
by alyssialui
Summary: Ron and Pansy are partnered for Potions. slight Ron/Pansy. AU. What a lame title.


_A/N: Ron and Pansy are partnered for Potions. slight Ron/Pansy. Ron and Pansy aren't a very good match so it's hard to write a pairing fic for them. They wouldn't be a very romantic fluffy couple unless they're written OOC. RxR. FxF._

_Submission for:_

_**Pick a Card, Any Card Challenge:** Two of Diamonds: Write about being second best. Alternatively, write about Ron Weasley._

__**Pairing God Challenge:** Ron/Pansy__

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

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><p>Ron grumbled with his jaw on his propped up hand. Who did he upset in a past life for him to be partnered up with Parkinson for Potions? If she wasn't glaring at him and sitting with her arms crossed in silence, she was chewing him out for being a Weasley, a ginger, a blood-traitor, or all of the above.<p>

They were both currently waiting for their potion to simmer for the next 30 minutes. He looked over at Harry and Hermione who were laughing over her Potions book, playfully swatting each other and completely forgetting about their best friend, Ron. He looked on jealously. So this was how they acted when he wasn't there?

"If you would just man up, then she might notice you, Weasley," Pansy scoffed on his right.

He turned towards her, "What would you know, Parkinson?"

Pansy laughed and said, "Even though she's a mudblood, she's still a girl, Weasley."

"Don't you call her that, Parkinson." Ron hissed while Pansy held up her hands in defense. "And I know she's a girl."

"And obviously Potter knows that as well," Pansy said pointing towards the blushing Hermione as Harry stood a bit too close to her.

Ron groaned, covering his hands with his head. "I can't compete with that. He's Harry Potter, the bloody Boy-Who-Lived!"

Pansy raised an eyebrow, "My, my. Someone's bitter. I thought he was your friend."

Ron looked down a bit sheepishly, "He is, but it's hard to be noticed beside him, you know."

Pansy looked off disinterestedly and flicked a piece of imaginary lint off her school sweater, "Not really."

Ron continued to watch the happy couple who still seemed oblivious to the world around them. Why would Hermione like him if she could have Harry? Harry was famous, Harry was an excellent Seeker, Harry was smart and funny and amazing, and he was Ron Weasley, one of 7 poor, red-headed Weasleys.

"If you're going to sit there all day and mope like a kicked puppy, Weasley, at least use your sorrow to crush some shriveled figs," Parkinson said throwing three tiny purple fruit to him.

He crushed in silence as she watched the potion and the small pocket watch on the table. After a few moments, she said softly, "There are some things I like about you more than, Potter." He looked at her and saw she wasn't looking at him at all but was just talking loud enough for him to hear. "A ginger is definitely funnier than Saint Potter, you don't have a death cloud following you around, and you're not that bad to look at. That's three things going for you, Weasley."

"Thanks, I guess," he said awkwardly.

They continued in silence now, this one a bit more awkward than the last. What was Parkinson on about now? She had just complimented him, well half-compliments, but from Parkinson that was saying much. And she said it with no sneer or smirk. She thought he was funny and not bad to look at.

He looked at her out the corner of his eye. Her short black hair brushed her shoulders and there was a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead as she stood over the boiling cauldron. She wasn't the prettiest, but she was alright to look at too. He watched as she bottled the potion and placed on Snape's desk. Ron looked on in admiration as he realized that it had come out perfectly, way better than anything he could have come up with. She had done it with no fanfare or applause, as if Potions was a natural thing for her. She was definitely smart, and sharp as a tack, that same tack liked to jab him where it hurt, but he couldn't deny she was witty.

She came back to the table and reached under it for her bag. He picked it up and rose to hand it to her. With a slight smile, he said, "You know, you're not so bad, Parkinson."

She looked at him blankly but there was a slight turn of the corner of her mouth. She took her bag from him and said with a small wave, "See you around, Weasley," before walking out of the classroom.


End file.
